


Day 2 - Galtean

by RinYumii



Series: KLance AU Month - February 2019 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Galra!Keith, Galtean!KLance, I'm tired, KLance AU Month February 2019, M/M, Mostly Fluff, One prompt a day, altean!lance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-20 20:45:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17629364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinYumii/pseuds/RinYumii
Summary: Princess Allura of Altea married Prince Lotor into Daibazaal as a means to show the peace treaty between the two planets. Now, it's Lance's turn to find a partner to rule Altea with, and what better occasion to meet people than a ball? In order to assure the Prince's safety during the event, Emperor Zarkon assigns a quiet, masked Galra Lieutenant, said to be very quick to react, to be his personal bodyguard for the night. Is the ball really going to be that boring now that Lance has company?





	Day 2 - Galtean

**Author's Note:**

> Good morning! Or evening, depending where you are. Welcome to Day 2 - Galtean! As the title - and the tags - suggests, this is a Galra!Keith and Altean!Lance fic. Before you ask: no, there is no smut (I can already hear your cries of disappointment), mainly because I want to keep those prompts aimed at a general audience as much as possible, but also because I don't trust myself with very explicit content yet. I'm an innocent soul, you see.  
> Once again, I am sorry for any mistakes made in the fic, I stayed up all night to finish it.  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this fic at least as much as I loved writing it!

“Do I really have to do this?”

Lance was complaining. His older sister, Princess Allura, had married Prince Lotor into Daibazaal to show the rest of the universe the peace between the two planets. Now, Lance’s parents, King Alfor and Queen Melenor, were organising a Ball in their castle so he could meet his future partner who would be ruling Altea with him when he gets on the throne.

“Stop whining,” his mother was telling him while the servants were placing all kinds of blue, white and golden cloths around him. They asked him to raise his arms, but he kept them firmly crossed in front of his chest, looking into his mother’s eyes defiantly. She sighed and nodded her head towards one of the servants who apologized to Lance without sounding apologetic the tiniest bit before uncrossing his arms and raising them himself, much to the prince’s disarray and discomfort.

“Your father and I,” she continued, “have organized tonight’s ball just for you. It’ll be a great opportunity for you to finally meet other people, and, maybe, find your life partner.”

“I doubt I will,” Lance mumbled, averting his eyes when his mum’s bright blue orbs darkened ever so slightly to show her dissatisfaction.

She stood up furiously. “Prince Lance,” she said in a tone that demanded respect, the tone she was using when addressing her people as the Queen, not her children as their mother. “You will dress up for this evening’s ball and meet the King and myself in the reception room in two vargas. If you are late, if you are not decent, or if you show the slightest disrespect towards our guests, I will show you my wrath. And trust me, you do not want to see me angered tonight.”

With those words, the turned away and slammed the door, her long white cape trailing behind her, floating as if the wind had rose within the castle’s walls. And maybe it had. The air slowly became more bearable as she left, and the servants let out sighs of relief as they were glad the Queen had not shown _them_ her wrath. They were looking at him with uncertain eyes, as though they were in front of the greatest dilemma: Lance could be very difficult to deal with when he was pouting, but repercussions would fall on them too if he wasn’t ready in time to welcome the first guests.

Lance sighed, too, and resigned.

“Alright,” he said, raising his arms on his own as previously demanded. “Dress me up.”

And so, the servants did as told by the Prince they were assisting in a deafening quiet.

**…Two vargas later…**

Lance ran down the stairs to meet his parents in the reception room, as previously told. The Prince wondered why he needed to be there so early, given the ball wouldn’t start in another three vargas or so, but he was way too scared of his mother’s anger to try and disobey in order to find out. He slowed down as he neared the door, smoothed his wrinkled clothes, ran a hand in his hair to style it the way he liked it, and softly knocked. His father’s voice came from behind it, allowing him to step in.

Remembering the manners he had been taught since he was a child, he opened the door and respectfully bowed to the occupants of the room.

“Raise your head, son,” his father said in a soft tone, and Lance did as told. He could at least behave before the actual event. As he straightened his back, he noticed the presence of two Galra guests, the most noticeable one being Emperor Zarkon.

Lance wanted to smile. Before Allura married his son, Lotor, Lance was used to calling him ‘Uncle Zarkon’ due to the proximity between the Emperor and King Alfor. Now, he was to get used to calling him Father-in-law. Family was such a complex thing.

“Welcome, Emperor Zarkon,” Lance said in a diplomatic tone, placing himself next to his father and in front of his guest.

“Please, Prince Lance, drop the formalities,” Zarkon said with his low voice. He cleared his throat. “I wish you to enjoy your evening, although I won’t be staying long.” Lance raised an eyebrow, inviting him to continue, and the Emperor explained. “I brought you one of my best Lieutenants in order to survey tonight’s ball. You never know who might try to sneak in when big crowds like this gather in one place. He is very quick to react, and your safety will be ensured.”

He motioned his hand to his side, and Lance’s eyes drifted to Zarkon’s side as a silhouette shifted. He hadn’t noticed anyone else before. The Lieutenant was wearing a black uniform, and his face was covered by a mask. He was also slightly smaller than any other Galra Lance had seen before, but seemed a bit taller than him nonetheless. Lance vaguely wondered if he was really safe with him appointed as a bodyguard given his stature. How much better could he protect Lance than he was able to himself?

As the Prince scrutinized him from head to toe, the soldier came forth and bowed on one knee, placing a hand on the ground as he pledged his loyalty to Lance as his personal bodyguard for the night. His voice sounded a bit husky from behind the mask. Lance tried hard not to roll his eyes as he placed a hand on the man’s shoulder, accepting the temporary guard assignment, and pledged in return to liberate him from his position once the ball was over. The Galra soldier rose back to his feet and placed himself in the corner of the room in Lance’s back, arms crossed on his chest in the same demeanour Lance was showing when refusing to get dressed, one leg resting on the wall, ready to begin his job.

“Well, that’s all I came here for,” announced Zarkon, bowing before Lance’s mother and shaking his father’s hand in the Galra fashion. “I wish you well, Prince Lance. I’ll see you tomorrow to take my Lieutenant back. Until then, take care, and enjoy your ball.”

The Emperor turned his back to them and left, shouldered by Alfor who was probably walking him back to the hangar like the good friend he was. Melenor looked at Lance and removed a bit of dust from his shoulder.

“I’ll give you an A for effort and punctuality.” As she neared the door, she chuckled. “Although, you should really do something about that hairstyle of yours.” And then, she was gone, leaving a blushing Lance behind her, and the Prince could swear he heard the Galra Lieutenant snicker at the remark and reaction.

He couldn’t wait for the ball to end when it hadn’t even started yet…

**…Later…**

“So, this is where the ball will be held,” Lance said, gesturing widely around the large room. The Galra Lieutenant just nodded and registered the width and depth of the room, probably calculating how long it would take him to apprehend any suspicious activity. “The guests won’t be going anywhere else unless I allow them to, so you don’t really need to see the rest of the castle. Plus, other guards will be posted here and there in the place.” Another silent nod.

_Too quiet._

Lance fidgetted. What to do now? The first guests of the ball weren’t going to start coming for another two or three vargas, and he couldn’t exactly stay there, doing nothing. On the other hand, he couldn’t leave the Galra soldier here alone either. Oh, right. He was his personal bodyguard tonight, so he would probably follow Lance wherever he was going anyway. He tested his theory right away, making to leave the ballroom to go to his bedroom.

The Lieutenant followed him. _Great,_ the Prince thought, _another one surveying me_. He kept walking but went past his bedroom.

“May I know where you are headed to, Prince Lance?” the Galra asked him. What even was his name? Lance wasn’t going to call him “Galra”, “Soldier” or “Lieutenant” all night, was he?

“Bathroom,” he simply replied, not bothering to turn back to face the person he was talking to like he was taught in order to be polite. He remembered what his mother had told him earlier, something about being disrespectful and earning her wrath, and he quickly added a “sir”. The soldier didn’t reply, still following him silently with the same firm steps. _Definitely too quiet._ Lance liked to chat with the guards from time to time, but he had the feeling he wouldn’t get this one to talk much during the night. Not that he _wanted_ to talk to him.

They arrived in front of the bathroom, and Lance turned to his assigned bodyguard. “Are you going to follow me in there too? It’s already hard enough having you follow me around like a puppy following its master for a treat, but I really don’t need you to wipe my butt. And I doubt you want to either. It’s just a bathroom, nothing can kill me in there.”

The Galra soldier just looked at him - or at least, Lance assumed he was, since he was still wearing that mask hiding his face, and the Prince wondered if he was ever going to remove it - and clenched his fists. No way, was he already irritated? Hot blooded, huh. However, he quickly unclenched them, probably not wanting to upset the almighty Prince he was serving tonight, and placed his right hand on his heart bowing slightly, then turned his back to Lance, guarding the entrance of the holy bathroom in use.

Lance was alone. For now. He wanted to use this short moment for himself while it lasted, because he wouldn’t be able to be on his own again for a while once the ball started. He walked in front of the mirror and looked at his reflection, stared at himself: His skin was perfect, as usual. His eyes were a darker shade of blue than his mum’s or his sister’s, and he liked them just the way they were. His irises reminded him of the colour of the sky on rainy days. His pointy ears were pierced, and each harboured an earring with a glowing blue crystal, proof of the royal blood flowing through his veins. His sister wore her gem in the crown placed on her forehead.

No, really, there wasn’t anything wrong with Lance’s face, but something still bugged him without being able to tell what it was. If he tried asking one of the guards or servants, they would probably all compliment him on how smooth his skin was due to the care he was giving it daily. If he tried asking his parents, they would either tell him they were busy, or tell him he looked decent enough as the Prince. But Lance didn’t want to look _just_ decent enough. Lance didn’t want to be complimented because he was the Prince. He wanted somebody, for once in his life, to see him as himself. As the guy who liked playing pranks on others to kill time. As the guy who always left his veggies on the side of the plate. As the guy who hid in the bathroom because he didn’t want to be the center of the attention at a stupid ball organized for the sole purpose of finding him a partner to rule Altea with.

Maybe that was what was bothering him. He _really_ didn’t want to go to that ball. He was going to meet people who were going to compliment him on his looks only, who weren’t going to try and find out who was the real Lance. Not just his façade of a Prince. All those people who had been invited without Lance knowing, whom he didn’t even know! 

Faces. He was just going to see a bunch of faces tonight, maybe even dance with some of them, and his parents expected him to fall in love with one of those faces. Get married to it. It. Her. Him. He didn’t care. Actually, he cared a lot! It was his future they were talking about! His life! His _parents_ didn’t care! They were using him at their convenience, inviting those faces into their castle, into Lance’s _life_ , so he could marry another random prince or princess for the benefit of the two planets. Just like Allura with Lotor. Except Allura had really fallen in love. At least, he thought so. He hoped so.

How sad, how cruel, to not be able to choose the one you’re going to marry, with no guarantee of truly, sincerely loving them, from the bottom of your heart. Lance wondered if his parents had chosen each other themselves, or if it had been decided for them, too. He was scared of knowing the answer. He didn’t want to have been born from a forced love, if this could still be called love.

And he wondered if he would be able to fall in love with one of those guests tonight, and if he’d be able to produce children with them. Will their child have thoughts on this matter, too, in the future? He certainly didn’t want his future child to have his life partner chosen for them.

He shook his head, getting rid of his gloomy thoughts, and splashed some lukewarm water on his face, to clear his mind. He stormed out of the bathroom, not bothering to dry the water dripping from his face and hair, and walked steadily along the corridor. As far away from the ballroom as possible.

“Prince Lance,” came a voice from behind him, and he stopped abruptly, turning to face his bodyguard, startled at the sudden words. The words themselves weren’t what startled him, but the person who had pronounced them. “I’ve been thinking since earlier and I meant to ask,” he continued, face still unreadable and voice slightly rough due to the mask. “What is a _puppy_?”

Lance blinked once, twice, and he burst into laughter. “Holy Quiznak, he speaks!” he said, wrapping his arms around his ribcage, unable to control the sound coming out of his mouth, and the joyful tears in the corner of his eyes. “After leaving the reception room, _this_ is the first thing you ask?”

He took a few minutes to calm down, wiping his eyes, and smile still plastered on his face. “It’s something I’ve read in a book about Humans. Come with me, I’ll show you.”

Lance walked towards the library, followed closely by the Galra soldier - he really had to ask for his name at some point - and was seriously glad for the distraction. It didn’t take them long to get to the library, a place Lance didn’t like very much because he just couldn’t keep quiet for more than sixty ticks, but he still spent an awful lot of time there as a child. Mostly to read picture books, or stories about other galaxies. He really liked the ones about those people called _Humans_. He found their planet - Earth - and their culture so intriguing! Now, to find that book… 

He started going through the sections of books, all quite old already, and some very rare. He climbed a ladder and went into the letter ‘M’ for ‘Milky Way’, then searched the letter ‘E’ for ‘Earth’, and finally ‘A’ for animals. But instead of finding the item he was looking for, Lance was met with a hole. Confused, the Prince furrowed his eyebrows and searched another letter. Nothing. Below him, his bodyguard was waiting, posture loose and arms crossed on his chest. Maybe he still had the book in his bedroom, having forgotten to put it back on the shelves.

The Altean joined the soldier down, empty-handed. “Sorry,” Lance told him. “The book is not there, it’s probably still in my room…” He chuckled nervously, and the other man sighed.

They walked the same path they previously did, backwards until they reached Lance’s bedroom. He opened the lock with his palm and invited the Lieutenant in. His body had gone stiff, and he wasn’t coming in at all. “Don’t just stand in the way,” Lance said. “Come in!”

The other just shook his head. “I couldn’t possibly enter the Prince’s private quarters.”

Lance scratched the back of his head nonchalantly. “I’m the Prince. And I allow you, erm…” he thought now was a good opportunity to finally learn his bodyguard’s name.

“Keith,” the other man said after a while.

The Prince smiled. “Keith,” he repeated, the name foreign on his tongue. “I allow you, Keith, to penetrate my humble bedroom.”

Keith seemed to be thinking for a while. “Is that an order?”

“Do you want it to be?” Lance retorted, an eyebrow arched.

Keith didn’t reply, and simply stepped in, head low. The room was brightly lit, and very spacious. Worthy of a Prince. Lance went through his desk, his bedside table, his trunk, even though his dresser to find the desired book. At last, he found it under his bed. It must have slipped from his hand when he was reading it last time. Lance sat on his bed and gestured for Keith to do the same, gently patting the spot next to him. The soldier relaxed his shoulders, and did as told, sitting next to the Prince. 

Lance opened the book. It was a thick book, with a lot of words written on the pages. The front cover harboured a long word Lance had taken weeks to decypher: Dictionary. Lance flickered through the pages until he found the word he was interested in. _Puppy_.

Puppy [puhp-ee]  
_noun_ , **plural pup·pies.**  
A young dog, especially one less than a year old.

Lance then went through the trouble of explaining to Keith what a dog was, and fortunately enough, the definition of a dog came with a picture of the four-legged animal. The Prince found those creatures rather cute, and they kept looking at pictures of other animals through the dictionary, chatting in an almost friendly manner. Lance hadn’t been able to talk like this for a long while.

After a good varga, Lance felt like stretching his legs, and the two companions walked towards the training area. They kept talking about those animals on their way there, and Lance came up with a crazy idea.

“Hey, Keith,” he started, trying to get the other’s attention. He succeeded. Keith, who was walking _next to_ him, not _behind_ him anymore, was facing his way, expression still veiled behind that mask of his. They entered the training grounds and Lance took an Altean broadsword from the armoury. “Wanna spar?” he asked smugly, smirk slowly growing in anticipation of the other’s answer.

“Are you sure, your majesty?” Keith asked carefully despite the obvious spasms of his hands. He wanted this at least as much as Lance did.

“Please, call me Lance,” he said as he was positioning himself in a low stance, sword in front of him, one hand behind his back. He was confident he’d win this duel.

Keith got into position as well, unsheathing his sword, which grew larger as it was being firmly held by its owner. “Prince Lance, are you ready?”

Lance threw himself onto Keith, clashing their swords together. Keith paraded, and Lance stepped back. They circled around the other, feeling the tension between them as the two opponents faced each other. Keith was the one to make the next move, attempting to sweep Lance under his feet with his own, but the Prince swiftly dodged the movement and stayed balanced, gaining an advantage on the masked Galra. He was quick to react and jabbed his sword through Keith’s suit and into the ground. The soldier was stuck. Lance had won. Or so he had thought.

His victorious smile faded when Keith rolled on the side, tearing a hole in his suit, and got back up on his feet. Lance grabbed his sword with both hands this time, ready to fight more seriously. Because he had been startled by Keith’s move, Lance moved forward clumsily, and the Lieutenant easily dodged him, hitting his lower back with the hilt of his sword while spiraling on himself. Lance staggered a bit, and he could hear Keith smiling from behind his mask. He was sure his smile was beautiful…

Something clicked inside Lance’s brain. It happened, sometimes. He thought quickly, while turning to face Keith again, and analyzed his surroundings. Yes, it could work. But for this, he needed Keith to attack him first. He lowered his stance once more, and made a gesture for Keith to come at him. Which he did. And he was coming fast. Good, it would be more effective that way. Keith raised his sword and Lance made to counter it until the last second, when he dodged and placed himself behind the soldier, spiralling on himself like Keith had done a few moments ago and hit him lightly at the back of the head with the hilt of his sword when Keith was low enough for Lance to reach that place.

Keith fell on his front, and Lance crouched so he could quite literally sit on top of him. The Galra made to roll on his back, and the Prince helped him do so, but was quickly taken aback. The hit had deactivated the mask placed on Keith’s face, revealing the surprise painted on it. Lance dropped his sword, breath short. What struck him first weren’t the fluffy ears reminding him of the pictures of dogs they had been looking at a while ago, but his _eyes_. Two beautiful violet irises were staring back at him, glimmering in the training grounds’ flickering light. Lance wanted to dive inside them and drown in their depth. His soft black hair framed his face beautifully, and the Prince unconsciously reached into it to run a trembling hand through the knots.

Still on the ground, Keith leaned into the touch, letting a sigh escape his mouth, eyes half-closed, staring right at Lance. The Prince’s blue orbs traced the features of this face that had been hidden from his sight for too long, and stopped at Keith’s lips. He wanted to see them curve into a smile. A smile that would be his, and _his only_ . Almost as if on cue, Keith let his lips curve upwards, showing Lance the softest smile he ever had the chance to witness. His heart skipped a beat. It really was beautiful, especially on such a beautiful face, and now Lance wanted to _taste_ those lips.

Keith’s rusty but soft voice took him out of his trance. “You’re not scared,” he said.

Lance smiled, too, softly, and the slightest blush coloured his cheeks. “Of course not,” he replied in a murmur. “How could I be scared of you? You’re so beautiful…”

Keith scoffed, amused. “I’m _purple_ ,” he added, stressing on the word, but no hatred for his own kind or himself could be heard in his tone.

“You’re beautiful,” Lance repeated, and they just stared at each other, wordlessly. They didn’t need words. The looks, the touches spoke for themselves, and none did anything to stand back up. They wanted to say like this forever, staring into each other’s eyes, ruffling each other’s hair like it was the last thing they could do.

“Congratulations,” Keith said finally. “You’ve won, Lance.”

“What do you mean, I’ve won?” Lance smiled. “I’ve completely lost.”

They were so engrossed into contemplating each other they almost didn’t hear the door opening, a servant coming in to tell Lance the first guests would be arriving shortly. Still in a daze, Lance stood up, helped Keith do the same, and they both headed towards Lance’s bedroom for a change of clothes on the servant’s recommendation. Lance had sweat a lot in his outfit (good thing they had prepared a spare one just in case), and Keith had a hole made by Lance’s sword pierced through his suit. Lance hoped he could find an outfit that would be Keith’s size in his own clothes, in replacement for his damaged suit.

**…The Ball...**

The guests had almost all arrived when Keith and Lance entered the ballroom. They had both had a change of clothes; Lance into a lighter outfit, though the design was similar to the one he was wearing before: puffy light blue trousers, a white top with golden seams and a long cape covering one of his shoulders completely. The outfit was completed by opened shoes that were slightly heeled to make him seem taller. He was also wearing the official royal gems: as earrings, a choker and on his circlet he had been forced to wear by his mother. Keith was the one who was changed the most by his new outfit. He was wearing a pair of black trousers, a black shirt enhancing his protruding muscles, complete with a long, fancy red coat and white boots. Who would have thought red was his colour? He had also been given a pair of black gloves to enhance the whole bodyguard role he was given for the night. His long hair was tied loosely by a red ribbon. His blade was sheathed at his side, and reminded Lance of a knight. Or a Prince. He looked truly beautiful. Even the scar on Keith’s cheek couldn’t spoil such beauty. _Battle scar_ , Keith had said. _Got tons like that on my body._ Such a shame they had changed in different rooms. 

Lance’s eyes unconsciously found Keith’s, and he was lost in those irises again. _How could such a perfect creature exist in the world?_

A hand on his shoulder. His trance was broken once more. Keith looked away, putting on a poker face, and Lance turned to the owner of that hand. His father. Next to him was his mother, and she looked at him with a worried look. No, not at him, at his hair. Lance had styled it his way again, flicking it backwards with a few loose strands gently falling on his forehead. She didn’t say or tried to do anything about it though, she knew Lance would have it his way in the end. The grip on his shoulder tightened slightly as the King of Altea spoke in a loud voice to get the assembly’s attention.

“Dear princes and princesses of planets of the close and far universe, I King Alfor, humbly welcome you in my castle. My son, Prince Lance hereby present, will dance with each and every one of you in the ballroom tonight, in order to find among yourselves the partner he’ll share the rest of his life with.” Some princesses giggled near a table where all kinds of snacks were displayed, obviously interested in being the chosen one. Unfortunately, none of them were exactly Lance’s type. “May you all find love, tonight, and enjoy the ball as well as the snacks and drinks our cooks have put at your disposal.”

In the middle of the stairs, the orchestra started playing soft music to get the guests going at familiarizing themselves with each other. His parents each hugged him, saying how they were proud of doing this despite his earlier reluctance, and he smiled at them before they left the ballroom. In all honesty, if not for Keith, Lance didn’t think he would have set foot in this part of the catlet at all tonight. He really enjoyed Keith’s company, and it may not have started too well at first, but once the ice had been broken, Lance had realized Keith wasn’t like anybody else he had met in his life. He wasn’t constantly trying to get on his good side, complimenting him on his outwards looks only, like the other servants in the castle. Keith had snickered when his mum mentioned his hairstyle, while another servant would have told him not to pay attention to the Queen’s words, that Lance would still be a good Prince whatever hairstyle he decided to go with. Lance wasn’t worried about not being a _good Prince_ , but a good person altogether. An this, none of the servants could ever understand. All they saw was the Prince in front of them, not Lance.

Keith had been different. Yes, he called him “Prince Lance”, but that was just because of his position as his bodyguard for the night. Lance had seen how steady Keith was with a sword when they were battling. None of the guards had ever spared with him before, afraid they would injure their precious prince. That’s why they had programmed a robot designed with different levels of difficulty, that way, Lance would train at his own pace, and he did, until he realized even the highest level was still meant to train a child! Keith hadn’t hesitated one bit when Lance came at him with his sword, attacking him as fiercely. Lance had spent such a good time with him, finally able to be himself, and acknowledged by someone for the first time. It had felt really good, and Lance wished he could go back to that time and make it last forever…

A princess walked to him and bowed respectfully, her shiny dress sparkling in the light during the movement. “Good evening, Prince Lance,” she said, smiling softly. Immediately, Lance felt uncomfortable and his eyes searched for Keith, but he was nowhere in sight. It wasn’t the princess herself that made him uncomfortable, she was very pretty, but the situation. He felt awkward, almost like an intruder in his own castle. He felt out of place. His heart beat faster, his breath caught in his throat, and his vision turned to black. He felt his consciousness drift away, and he fell to his knees. He heard a surprised scream from the princess before a set of hands grabbed him by the shoulders. The hands were firm and rough, very unlike of a princess’. He knew those hands. They had touched him earlier during the day. _Keith_. It was easy to assume his bodyguard had pushed her to the side after seeing Lance fall, hence the scream. He had, indeed, been quick to react.

“Prince Lance?” he felt a hand on his pulse, then on his forehead. “What happened?” he heard Keith ask in a cold tone, and the princess’ voice was panicked.

“I-I don’t know!” she said. “I went to greet the prince, and he just fell suddenly.”

“I see,” was all Keith replied before Lance felt himself being hurled up, and supported to walk towards what he assumed to be the exit. The sounds quietened down slightly, and he could breathe better.

“Keith,” Lance said weakly. “Where were you?”

“Shh, I’m right here, don’t worry,” Keith replied.

“I was looking for you… but I couldn’t see you.”

“It’s okay, you’re okay, Lance.”

He didn’t know if he had heard right, but it seemed to Lance it was the second time Keith said his name without adding an honorific. That made him incredibly happy. They stopped somewhere, Lance didn’t know where since his eyes were still closed. He was gently laid on the grass, and he heard some soft splashing sounds. Water. They were near the pond, a few steps outside the castle entrance. He felt the fresh liquid being introduced in his mouth, and felt slightly reinvigorated. Keith then proceeded to wash his face, cautiously splashing the water on his forehead, his neck, behind his ears. Lance sighed. His head was placed on a soft surface, and a hand ran through his hair, very gently. He opened his eyes. The Prince was met with yet another splendid vision of Keith, looking at him with the most gorgeous eyes, his silhouette framed by the moonlight. His expression would have been completely neutral if not for the eyes that showed worry for Lance’s wellbeing.

“Are you feeling better?” Keith asked, and Lance nodded.

The music came back to his ears, and he remembered his responsibilities. Grunting, he reluctantly sat up and stood, tottering, but was caught by Keith’s firm, reassuring hand. He smiled at him.

“I have to go back,” Lance said, voice hoarse. Keith nodded, and they went back inside the castle, some guests looked worried for the prince, and others were so busy eating and chatting they hadn’t noticed the Prince’s absence. He sighed again. Faces.

The princess who had came to him earlier smiled, and Lance walked towards her. He bowed to her like she had did and held out a hand to her.

“May I have this dance, princess?” he asked in his most mellow tone, smiling charmingly.

“Of course, Prince Lance,” she answered, taking his hand, and Lance led them to the center of the ballroom. The music shifted to a waltz, and they started swirling around in a beautiful mix of blue and green. Somewhere in the crowd surrounding the two dancers, Lance spotted Keith, leaning against a wall, arms crossed on his chest, expression closed. It was as though he had his mask back on. For the rest of the dance, Lance’s mind couldn’t focus on anything else but Keith. His head was filled with Keith Keith Keith.

The dance came to an end, the two partners bowing to each other, and when Lance made to leave the center of the room, he was met with countless princes and princesses, each asking to be the next to dance with the Prince. Lance looked in Keith’s direction for help, but his bodyguard did not move an inch from his spot. His face was still neutral, but Lance could see his eyes. They were smiling. He was enjoying seeing Lance in this situation! Lance’s eyes shot daggers at him while he was being dragged by an Arusian in the center of the ballroom.

The smaller being was very energetic, and so the pace of the music fastened, bringing everyone to dance at the same time. Now, this was more to Lance’s tastes. Being able to dance something else than constantly waltzes, being able to free his wild spirit and just be himself, surrounded by _friends_ , not random, unknown faces. For the first time since earlier in the day, Lance enjoyed himself, and laughed. The joyful bunch of princes and princesses all had fun together, and some affinities were created among themselves. After a few fast dances, the music reverted back to being soft. Everyone cheered, and happily went to the snack tables in groups, sometimes in pairs. Lance was out of breath, but he was smiling to the ears.

His eyes found Keith, who had a fond expression on. Lance bit his lip, and trotted to his bodyguard. “Enjoying yourself, Prince Lance?” he asked teasingly.

“I’d enjoy it a bit more if you were less tense,” Lance replied dryly. He still didn’t like it when Keith called him Prince. “Come eat something with me.”

“I believe you are grown up enough to feed yourself,” Keith said.

“The food could be poisoned,” Lance retorted.

“The castle’s cooks made it, there’s no way they would want to poison the Prince. Besides,” Keith uncrossed his arms, gesturing at the tables where guests were feasting on. “If the food was indeed poisoned, wouldn’t all those people be dead already?”

Lance grabbed this opportunity and took Keith’s wrist in his hand leading him towards the tables. “Okay, the food isn’t poisoned. But I could still choke on it and die. What would my parents say if I died while you were supposed to be watching me constantly? You may be quick to react, but it might happen too fast for you to do anything.” Lance smiled smugly, not releasing his grip on Keith’s wrist. “Besides,” he added, “I want you to taste the food, too.”

“That won’t be necessary. I’ve been trained to go on long mission without eating or drinking for several days. I do not feel hunger at the moment.”

“Fine then,” Lance turned to Keith once they were at one of the tables, and grabbed a piece of snack. “That’s an order, Keith. Eat this.”

He held the bit of food in his hand for Keith to take. 

The latter sighed and accepted the food, placing it in his mouth and chewing slowly, taking his time to savour the treat, a myriad of flavours exploding in his mouth. Lance looked at him with expectancy.

“What is it?” Keith asked once he swallowed.

“You liked it?” Keith nodded, and Lance smiled with relief. “It’s a special recipe invented by my grandmother. It’s made of diverse kinds of plants found on Altea. I added my own little twist though.”

“A twist?”

“Yes. Do you know the name of the plant that grows all over Altea?”

“I don’t remember the name, but it’s those flowers, right?” Keith said, pointing a nearby vase with a bouquet of pink and yellow flowers in it, giving off a sweet and pleasant scent.

Lance nodded. “Correct. They’re called juniberry flowers. They’re my sister’s favourites. She was thrilled when I added them to our grandmother’s recipe.”

“It was delicious.” Keith just said. “Thank you.”

Lance fed Keith some more of the snacks, chatted with the guests, danced with some of them, always coming back to Keith afterwards. A few newly formed couples left the ball early, some stayed and danced in the middle of the room, spiralling together in a beautiful mix of colours. The orchestra started playing a very soft music, and the harpist started singing lyrics about family, friendship and bonds. Lance felt nostalgic; his mother used to sing him this lullaby when he had nightmares as a kid. The tune had always stayed in his heart.

He turned to his bodyguard. “Keith,” he said. He really loved his name. “Will you dance with me?”

The slightly taller boy looked at him with incredulous eyes. “I-I couldn’t possibly. I mean, you’re the Prince, and I’m just a mere soldier…”

“Keith,” Lance said again, more firmly this time. He looked at the other with shining eyes. “Please?”

This wasn't an order, more like a demand.

Keith sighed through his nose. “But I can’t even dance…”

Lance smiled and took both of his hands, leading him slowly towards the other dancers. “It’s fine,” he said. “Just follow my lead.”

And so, they danced together. Slow at first, then following the rhythm, a bit faster, then slow again. Keith wasn’t too bad despite what he was saying. Dancing with him wasn’t like any other dances he shared tonight. This time, there was only Keith and him, and the music. Lance got lost again in those eyes, and the rest of the world didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was that he was dancing with Keith, and Keith was dancing with him. In his castle. In the ballroom. During the ball organized for him to meet the partner he would spend the rest of his life with. His hand ran along the base of Keith’s neck and gently tugged at his hair, which rested on his shoulder in that loose ponytail.

Red and blue mixed to make purple. Not the same purple of Keith’s eyes, but a nice, warm shade that felt like home.

“Keith…” He was getting used to saying his name out loud, now.

“Yes, Prince Lance?” asked Keith.

“I told you to stop calling me Prince already…” Lance pouted slightly, but kept talking. Anything to make this moment last longer. “What do you think about me?”

“You, your highness?”

“Stop mocking me!” Keith had a smug smile on, and Lance purposely stepped on his foot. “Seriously… What do you think about _me_?”

Keith was silent for a while, choosing his words carefully.

“When I first saw you in the reception room, slightly out of breath due to the effort of running through the castle to be there on time, your hair messy, oh, sorry, styled out the way it was, and the bit of dust on your shoulder, I thought: ‘What a sight!’ I mean, you’re supposed to be a Prince, and yet, despite the fancy clothes and shiny jewelry, you didn’t really act like one. Sure, you were being polite because it’s what you’ve been taught, but I could see it in your eyes that you didn’t mean a single word.

“You’ve never ordered me around despite my meager role in tonight’s ball, and when I saw you laugh at my first question, you sparkled. You were truly beautiful. Not only in appearance, but through your soul, too. I can see you are a kind person, Lance. You were the same when we dueled. You were shining as well, like a star in the night sky. And when you fainted earlier, I was seriously scared something might have happened to you. I should have never left your side, even for a second. I would have never been able to forgive myself if anything happened to you.

“You are very carefree, but cheerful. You always want to please those around you. You still went to this ball after your panic attack. You put the benefit of others before your own. You acknowledge both your qualities and your flaws. You’d be an ideal husband, and a great father.”

It was the first time Lance had heard him speak so much at once. And the third time he heard him say his name. Just his name. As Keith finished speaking, his hand ran up his side to gently brush his cheek, and Lance’s heart caught in his throat. Keith’s fingers were igniting him. Lance was on fire wherever Keith touched him, and the thought of dying in the Galra’s arms wasn’t so displeasing. Keith had said exactly the words Lance was waiting to hear for a long time. He never once mentioned his status as Prince, or as future King of Altea. All he said was about Lance. Just Lance.

“Wow, that’s… that’s the first time someone has told me all this… Thank you.”

“I think every word I said, Lance. In those few vargas, I got to know you, the real you. Not just some kind of pretentious and arrogant Prince I was expecting to serve tonight.”

Lance felt like he was dreaming. He leaned into Keith’s hand, still gently stroking his cheek, making sure what Keith was telling him, what he was _feeling_ was real. Their eyes were locked together, neither wanting to part even after the music stopped and the ballroom fell silent. They were the only ones still in the middle of the room, standing still, closely.

Suddenly, there was movement again, and their moment was broken. The remaining guests had bowed to their knees, and when Lance turned around he was faced with his father and mother. Keith immediately bent to his knees too, and Lance felt cold by the lacking presence. Lance bowed respectively to his parents too, and the King’s voice echoed through the hall.

“Thank you, dear friends, for accepting our invitation to this ball. We, the Queen Melenor and myself, hope you have spent a wonderful time with each other, as the event is drawing to an end.” Grunts of depreciation could be heard through the remaining crowd, and Lance couldn’t help but smile too. This evening had been quite fun. “It is getting quite late, and we’ll be guiding you through the wormholes to your respective planets.” The crowd parted and most went towards the exit. King Alfor turned to Lance. “Did you enjoy yourself tonight, son?” he asked, eyes smiling.

Lance nodded and smiled broadly. “I didn’t expect to have so much fun. I met a lot of great people this evening. I hope I can see them again…”

“Of course you can. They’re our allies, our friends. This ball’s purpose wasn’t only for you to meet a potential partner, but also get familiar with the future rulers of their respective planet in order to know who you’ll hold diplomatic meetings with. And, I must admit, it’s also a good way to, erm, chill out.”

Lance felt relieved and hugged his father in a tight embrace. “Thank you, father,” he said.

“It’s okay, son,” Alfor replied. “Now go to bed. Zarkon will be there early tomorrow to take his Lieutenant back.”

Lance looked at Keith with tearful eyes. After all the time they had spent together, they would have to part ways. Lance had a duty as future King, and Keith was a soldier, and had to go on missions in space. Lance’s heart hurt, and Keith’s face was back to being neutral. Why was he still trying to hide his emotions behind that invisible mask? The young Prince turned back to his father.

“Erm, can Keith stay with me a bit longer?” he asked.

King Alfor smiled and took a tone that faked surprise. “Keith? Is that your bodyguard’s name? Did you two grow that close in such a small amount of time?”

Lance nodded, face flushed. “Plus, I had to lend him my clothes for the ball ‘cause I teared his… So he’ll have to give them back…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Keith can stay with you until tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” Lance smiled and looked at Keith, whose expression had softened slightly.

King Alfor left them to join Queen Melenor in the control bay to help her close all wormholes after the guests had reached their planets. And so, Keith and Lance were left alone once more. Lance held out his hand to Keith, who grabbed it and intertwined their fingers together, making Lance’s heartbeat go faster and louder. He hoped Keith couldn’t hear it.

“You’re thinking too hard, steam’s coming out of your cute ears,” Keith said, and Lance’s face blushed a dark shade of red. 

The two walked together through the corridors to Lance’s bedroom, hand in hand.

**…**

They had stayed up all night, watching the stars on Lance’s balcony. The night had been warm, and the scent of the juniberries had soothed them. They were sitting on a large chair, snuggled against the other, caressing each other’s hair, each other’s back. They stared at the slowly disappearing stars as the day was breaking. Soon, Keith would have to leave, and Lance didn’t know when they’d see each other like this again. Lance looked at Keith, and Keith looked at Lance, losing themselves in each other’s eyes. They were shiny due to the lack of sleep, and maybe Lance was tearing up.

“Don’t leave me,” Lance begged in a broken tone. He held Keith’s had tighter.

“My job is over,” Keith said after a small pause. “I have to go back.”

Lance looked away, hiding his tears, but Keith took his chin in his hand and turned his face back towards him.

“I am no longer your bodyguard,” Keith continued. “What purpose do I have here, now?” 

“You could stay with me,” Lance said weakly. “We could live together here.”

A bird started singing in a tree, somewhere. 

“Marry me, Keith,” he finally said.

Keith smiled, brushing his thumb tenderly against Lance’s wet cheek. “Is that an order?” he asked, eyes reflecting his emotions.

Lance chuckled slightly. “Do you want it to be?” 

Keith’s only answer was to steal the Prince’s lips, and as they kissed before the rising sun, hands clasped together, Lance knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life alongside Keith.

**Author's Note:**

> Slightly longer than Day 1, I found it easier to writer and found more inspiration. Perhaps too much... I wanted to title this fic 'The Ball', but ended up writing only a small portion of it as the actual ball scene... Before I knew it, I was already 4,000 words into the fic, and I still hadn't written the most important part of it. Oh well, I hope you don't mind too much, at least there is more KLance than the previous fic ^^'  
> I'll see you tomorrow for Day 3 - Mermaid.


End file.
